


use me

by camboy_hynjin



Series: use me [1]
Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: (but gently), (kind of), Anal Fingering, Angry Sex, Canon Compliant, Crossdressing, Crying, Degradation, Dom Bottom Dongmyeong, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Feelings, Friends With Benefits, Humiliation, Hyung Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Mommy Kink, Pain Kink, Power Dynamics, Riding, Spanking, Sub Top Youngjo, Use of the word Slut, mentioned Cockstepping but it doesn't happen in the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camboy_hynjin/pseuds/camboy_hynjin
Summary: Dongmyeong should have expected this, really, when Youngjo texted him last night and asked if they could find a “private space” after their group schedules. It’s not often ONEUS and ONEWE have events together these days, so the opportunity was too good to pass up.“If you can keep it in your pants long enough for us to sneak off, yes,” Dongmyeong replied.Youngjo’s response—“I’ll do my best”—said it all.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Son Dongmyeong
Series: use me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918399
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	use me

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the kind anons who requested this on curiouscat! This was supposed to be a short Dongmyeong & Youngjo fuckbuddies drabble & ended up being this. Hope you enjoy. <3
> 
> Also, I ended up finishing this just in time for Youngjo's birthday, so happy birthday Youngjo! Your present is Dongmyeong in lingerie.

Dongmyeong shouldn’t be nervous to see ONEUS. They’re brother groups: his literal twin brother is in the band, and he’s known the other members for years. Hell, he even lived with some of them before Dongju joined, when there weren’t enough boys to justify putting the groups in separate dorms. 

Yet when he hears the door to ONEWE’s waiting room open and the familiar cacophony of the ONEUS members’ voices coming down the hall, a spike of adrenaline settles in his stomach. 

Dongju rounds the corner first, whining about something no doubt as he always does, but Dongmyeong is distracted from his brother’s words when he locks eyes with the boy behind him: Youngjo. 

His hair is a faded green that doesn’t suit him nearly as nicely as his usual dark hair, Dongmyeong thinks. He’s bowing politely as he enters, keeping up appearances, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Dongmyeong, and Dongmyeong hates that he can’t react to that. 

_Stop fucking staring_ , he wants to tell him. _You’re being obvious. Someone’s going to catch on._

They haven’t so far though, not in the year or so they’ve been playing this cat and mouse game, and Dongmyeong isn’t sure if that’s their bandmates’ willing suspension of disbelief or if they’re really just that unintuitive. 

Youngjo has the decency to greet the other members first, at least, before squishing himself onto Dongmyeong’s chair. There’s a valid excuse: there’s not enough seating in the waiting room for all eleven boys, proven by the way Keonhee tries to sit on Hyungu’s lap before being shooed away. But Dongmyeong knows the way Youngjo settles beside him—chest solid against Dongmyeong’s back, thigh warm where it brushes his own—isn't the fault of the lack of seating space. Nor is the way he slides his arm around Dongmyeong’s shoulder and leans in to whisper in his ear, breath hot against Dongmyeong’s neck: “You look gorgeous today.” 

Dongmyeong smacks his thigh, light enough that it will look playful. It helps that Dongmyeong has a tendency to react to things by hitting people, so only Youngjo will know his real intent. 

“Only today?” he whispers back, not daring to turn and look at him. 

“Every day,” Youngjo replies smoothly. He knows the boy is grinning, like he thinks he’s some kind of Romeo reincarnated, and Dongmyeong wants to smack that stupid smile off his face. He will, later. 

When Dongmyeong doesn’t reply, opting instead to chitchat with Dongju about their bands’ new songs, Youngjo grows more daring. 

“I’ve been dreaming about being inside you again,” he breathes, barely audible. 

Dongmyeong fakes a laugh, so the others will think Youngjo told some hilarious joke, before smacking his hand down on his thigh, harder this time. It’s what Youngjo was gunning for, judging by the way his breath hitches. _Fucking pain slut_. 

He should have expected this, really, when Youngjo texted him last night and asked if they could find a “private space” after their group schedules. It’s not often ONEUS and ONEWE have events together these days, so the opportunity was too good to pass up. 

“If you can keep it in your pants long enough for us to sneak off, yes,” Dongmyeong replied. 

Youngjo’s response—“I’ll do my best”—said it all. 

“You,” Dongmyeong starts, once he and Youngjo are in the empty ONEWE dorm, after Youngjo presses him back against the door and steals a heated kiss. “Are fucking insufferable.” 

Youngjo doesn’t respond, just leans in for another kiss, and Dongmyeong lets him, biting hard at Youngjo’s lower lip. “So fucking needy, you know that? Can’t even let me in the door and get changed.” 

That catches Youngjo’s attention. He pulls back, dark eyes sparkling in interest. “Changed? Into what?” he asks. 

“If you’d get your grubby hands off me for five seconds maybe you could find out,” Dongmyeong teases, and obediently, Youngjo lets him go. “Oh, now you’re going to listen, now that you think you can get something out of it?” 

“Maybe.” It’s the closest thing Dongmyeong will get to an apology, though Youngjo doesn’t sound sorry at all. 

“Come wait outside my bedroom,” Dongmyeong tells him, pushing past him without looking back to see if he follows. “I’ll unlock the door when you’re allowed to come inside.” 

They’ll have to make this relatively quick, Dongmyeong knows. The other members are out at dinner, catching up on each other’s lives over barbecue, which should buy them a couple hours. Youngjo faked sick to get out of it, and Dongmyeong played the role of the concerned dongsaeng, bravely sacrificing his opportunity for a meal to look after his hyung. It’s complete bullshit, but the others bought it, thank God. Dongmyeong doesn’t even want to imagine what he would have had to put up with if Youngjo got blue-balled. 

“You can come in!” Dongmyeong shouts through the door once he’s finished changing, lounging back on his bed in what he hopes comes across as a sexy yet comfortable position. 

Youngjo’s eyes widen the moment he lays eyes on Dongmyeong, staring, speechless. 

Dongmyeong grins, straightening his spine a little and crossing one stockinged leg over the other. He knows he looks good, sheer stockings elongating his legs, drawing attention to the burgundy lace garter belt holding them up at his thighs. The color complements his tan skin, matching the lipstick and eye shadow he put on before ONEWE’s performance earlier, as well as the rest of his lingerie: a tiny lace thong that does nothing to conceal his cock, and a bra that’s purely for show. 

“Well?” Dongmyeong raises an eyebrow, waiting for Youngjo to say something, anything, but preferably a compliment. 

“What the fuck?” 

That isn’t the response Dongmyeong was hoping for, but he can tell by the way Youngjo’s breathing is noticeably labored that it isn’t meant negatively. Still, Dongmyeong gets what he wants. 

“Try that again, sweetie,” he says. 

Youngjo seems to come back to himself, like he’s freshly returned from an out-of-body experience. He finally tears his eyes away from Dongmyeong’s body to meet his gaze, and Dongmyeong gives him a sweet smile. 

“You look... really, really pretty,” Youngjo gushes. As slick as he tries to be in public, he falls apart so easily when Dongmyeong gets him alone. 

“Just pretty?” Dongmyeong slides off the bed, the heels of his stilettos clicking against the hardwood floor as he approaches Youngjo. 

“Gorgeous,” he quickly corrects. The heels bring Dongmyeong up to Youngjo’s eye level, and he can tell from the way he won’t quite meet his gaze that it intimidates him. Good. “You’re a goddess.” 

“Glad you know your place.” Dongmyeong cups Youngjo’s face in his hands and pulls him in for another kiss. Despite how needy he’s been, he doesn’t touch Dongmyeong, holding still to let the younger boy take the lead. 

Dongmyeong smiles when they part, rewarding him with another peck on the lips. “You’re learning.” 

“No touching without permission,” Youngjo mumbles, avoiding Dongmyeong’s eyes. 

“Good.” Dongmyeong presses closer, molding his body to Youngjo’s. “You have permission.” 

Immediately, Youngjo’s hands are on his waist, pulling him even closer before sliding them down to rest on his ass. 

“This is what you’ve been dreaming about, right?” Dongmyeong whispers, loving the way Youngjo trembles in response. “Getting this close to me again?” 

“Yes.” Youngjo’s voice is barely audible. Cute. 

“Your hands on me... getting inside of me.” Youngjo whimpers, and Dongmyeong laughs. “But you know you won’t get it that easily, right?” 

Youngjo doesn’t respond. He knows the answer, but doesn’t want to admit it. 

“On your knees. And look at me when I’m speaking to you.” 

Youngjo sinks down onto the hardwood floor, looking up with sad puppy eyes, as if he thinks that will make Dongmyeong pity him. “Nice try. Now I want you to tell me what you did wrong.” 

Youngjo mumbles something inaudible, and Dongmyeong doesn’t even let him finish before stepping on his thigh. He doesn’t press hard enough to hurt yet, but the heel of his shoe is already digging into the fabric of his pants. 

“I flirted with you in public,” Youngjo blurts. Good, but not good enough. 

“More specific.” Dongmyeong applies pressure, heel pressing down enough for Youngjo to hiss from the sting. 

“In front of our members. And the film staff.” Another hiss. 

“What’d you say?” 

“That you were gorgeous and I—I wanted to be inside you.” 

Dongmyeong lifts his heel, planting it firmly back on the ground, and he can see the tension leaving Youngjo’s body. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he says. Youngjo bows his head, before remembering the rules he was given and snapping his head back up to look at him. Dongmyeong giggles. “So you do have at least part of a brain in there. Good. But it doesn’t make up for how fucking obvious you were being. Anyone could have caught us. You know that, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, goddess.” 

Dongmyeong grins. Praise like that always goes right to his head. He loves having this kind of power, knowing he can get someone to do whatever he says just because he wants it. “You’re being so good today. Is this to try and make up for how badly you behaved in front of our friends?” 

Youngjo holds his gaze, but Dongmyeong can tell he’s fighting the urge to look away. “I can’t help it,” he says softly. “You’re just so pretty.” 

Dongmyeong hums, narrowing his eyes as he studies Youngjo. “As much as I appreciate the compliments, it’s not working. Take your shirt off. It’s not fair that you’re still so clothed.” 

Now that he knows his attempts to butter Dongmyeong up aren’t working, the submissive demeanor falters, and Youngjo starts to act more like his usual self. He locks eyes with Dongmyeong, trying to regain some power in the situation as he slowly unbuttons the top of his silk shirt. It’s meant to look sexy, and probably does to any of his eager fans. 

Dongmyeong raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I will spank you.” It’s meant to be an empty threat, but the way Youngjo pauses when he says it, fingers fumbling clumsily over the next button, has Dongmyeong reconsidering. 

“Would you want me to spank you?” It’s a genuine question, the cold voice he uses when he’s domming melting away in favor of his usual warmer tone. 

Youngjo averts his eyes, and Dongmyeong doesn’t reprimand him for it. “That’s weird, right? You’re the one in fucking panties, I shouldn’t—” 

“Youngjo.” Dongmyeong sinks to his knees, so he’s level with Youngjo again, evening the playing field. “That’s not what I asked.” 

Youngjo takes a while to answer. Dongmyeong lets him, giving him all the time he needs. “You won’t judge me if I say yes?” 

Dongmyeong resists the urge to laugh at that. He’s stepped on Youngjo’s cock in his heels and slapped him across the face multiple times, and he’s worried about a little spanking. “I’d never judge you. Well, only in the sexy way you like.” 

Youngjo laughs at that, and Dongmyeong smiles, glad to have eased the tension. “I like when you hurt me,” he says softly, surprisingly vulnerable. “I think it could be fun, yeah.” 

Dongmyeong studies him for a moment before rising to his feet again. “Then get up and get your fucking clothes off. I can’t spank you if you’re in slacks.” Well, he can, but it’s so much less satisfying, plus he’s impatient. He’s not sure how much time they have left before the others will be back. 

“Why do I have to do all the work?” Youngjo complains, but Dongmyeong hears the rustling of clothes that tells him Youngjo is getting undressed. 

“Because you’ll do anything I say.” Dongmyeong perches on the edge of his bed, crossing his legs and smiling at Youngjo sweetly. “Won’t you, hyung?” 

“Don’t play the hyung card.” Youngjo grimaces, letting his shirt fall to the floor. 

Dongmyeong widens his eyes in faux-innocence. “What? Does it make you feel weak knowing someone that’s supposed to be your junior is bossing you around?” He waves a hand, motioning for Youngjo to keep going. “Pants next.” 

Youngjo grumbles something unintelligible. 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, hyung.” 

“I hate you,” Youngjo swears, stepping out of his slacks. 

“You don’t. Now come here.” He crooks a finger, beckoning for Youngjo to come closer. When he does, Dongmyeong pulls him down to his level, stealing another kiss. 

“Isn’t it something,” Dongmyeong murmurs against Youngjo’s lips. “I’m the one with my ass out in this thong, but you’re the one getting spanked.” 

Youngjo’s skin warms beneath his hands, obviously flustered. “Don’t get used to it. And this was your idea.” 

“I was joking,” Dongmyeong points out. “You wanted it. Now, lay across my lap.” 

Youngjo does as told, burying his face in the pillows at the head of Dongmyeong’s bed. 

Dongmyeong starts slow, resting his hands on Youngjo’s clothed ass. He still has his boxer briefs on, and Dongmyeong squeezes him gently through the fabric. Youngjo tenses, shifting on his lap. 

“Relax,” Dongmyeong says, sliding his hands slowly from the waistband of Youngjo’s black briefs all the way down to where they end at the tops of his thighs. “We don’t have to do this if you changed your mind.” 

“I know.” Youngjo stretches out a bit more, and Dongmyeong feels him going lax as he sighs. “Go ahead.” 

But Dongmyeong doesn’t, laughing instead. Now that he’s sure Youngjo’s comfortable, the switch is flipped back on. “You’re telling me when to start? It doesn’t work like that, babe.” He waits, just long enough to make Youngjo anticipate the first strike, before bringing his hand down hard. 

Youngjo jolts, and Dongmyeong watches the way his ass jiggles from the impact, even through the layer of his underwear. “Oh, this is fun,” he coos, and when Youngjo doesn’t protest, he does it again, striking the other cheek. 

Youngjo groans, hips shifting upwards towards Dongmyeong’s hands. “Want me to keep doing this, or are you ready for me to sit on your dick?” 

“Fuck, Myeong,” Youngjo curses, turning his head to look at him. His eyes are dark with lust. 

Dongmyeong tilts his head, playing coy. “Is that an answer? Because I think there’s a more polite way to say that.” 

He can feel the weight of Youngjo’s cock pressing against his thigh. Youngjo opens and closes his mouth, for once having trouble finding words. 

“I’m waiting,” Dongmyeong singsongs, and Youngjo’s cock twitches. Dongmyeong giggles. 

“You know what I want,” he mumbles. 

“I do. But I won’t give it to you until you say it.” 

Youngjo just glares at him. 

“What’s the matter? You had no problem saying it in front of all our friends and the film crew. What’s stopping you now?” 

He knows, though. When Youngjo said it in public, whispered it in Dongmyeong’s ear when he wasn’t supposed to, Youngjo was the one in control, trying to get Dongmyeong flustered in front of others. Admitting it now would be giving up all control, surrendering his power to Dongmyeong, and Dongmyeong knows that as much as Youngjo loves that, admitting it can be hard for him. 

“Take your time, sweetheart,” Dongmyeong says, softening his tone. 

Youngjo takes a breath, averting his eyes. “Please let me,” he says quietly. 

“Let you what?” Dongmyeong keeps his voice gentle. 

“Let me fuck you, please.” 

“Are you the one fucking me?” Dongmyeong asks. He knows when to ease up, but also when to put the pressure back on. 

“N-no,” Youngjo stammers, taking another deep breath. “Please... please sit on me, Mommy.” 

Oh? Dongmyeong didn’t think they were playing like that today, but he can roll with that. 

“Off my lap and get your fucking underwear off. Then lay back on the bed.” 

Youngjo rises to his feet, noticeably not looking at Dongmyeong as he gets undressed. Dongmyeong wonders if he even meant to call him that, or if it slipped out accidentally. Dongmyeong gets up too, grabbing the lube and condom out of his dresser while he waits. 

When he turns around, Youngjo is laid out on his bed, fully naked. Dongmyeong smiles as he approaches him, tossing the condom on the bed before uncapping the lube. “You’re going to watch me prep myself,” he tells him, locking eyes with Youngjo as he squeezes the lube out onto his fingers, rubbing them together to slick them up. 

Youngjo flushes, but he doesn’t protest. He knows better than to do that at this point. Dongmyeong climbs onto the bed, knees on either side of Youngjo’s legs so he hovers above him. 

The benefit of wearing a thong, other than the way it hugs Dongmyeong’s curves and shows off his pretty ass, is that it’s easy to slip his fingers under the g-string, so he can keep it on while he fingers himself. He stares directly at Youngjo as he slides the first finger in, lips parting in a soft sigh. It doesn’t feel like much, but he’s exaggerating his reaction in an effort to get Youngjo worked up. Judging by the way Youngjo clenches and unclenches his fists, clearly fighting the urge to touch, it’s working. 

“Feels good, hyung,” he moans, slipping a second finger in. This one stretches him a bit more, and he moans for real, head tilting back from the pleasure. “You’ll feel even better, won’t you?” 

He looks back at Youngjo to find the older boy biting his lip, staring at Dongmyeong with half-lidded eyes. Dongmyeong raises an eyebrow, indicating he expects an answer. 

“I want to,” he says softly. 

“You want to?” Dongmyeong repeats, adding a third finger and stuttering out a high, pretty moan. “You want to be inside your Mommy?” 

Youngjo groans. He’s so hard, Dongmyeong can see the way he’s turning colors at the tip. “Please, please stop teasing,” he begs. 

“It was a yes or no question, sweetheart.” 

“Yes, fuck, yes, I wanna be inside you!” 

Dongmyeong slips his fingers out, pouting involuntarily at the empty feeling. He grabs the condom packet, ripping it open and unrolling the condom onto Youngjo’s cock without preamble. It’s the first time he’s touched him all evening, and even though Dongmyeong isn’t trying to give him any pleasure, his touch alone is enough to have him moaning. 

“Fucking pathetic.” Dongmyeong laughs, sitting back on his heels to observe Youngjo while he considers his next move. He could ride him with the panties on, and there is something sexy about being clothed while Youngjo isn’t, but fuck is he aching to touch himself. He reaches for Youngjo’s hands, planting them on his hips, just over the waistband of the thong. “Take my panties off,” he commands, not missing the way Youngjo’s cock twitches when he says it. 

Youngjo follows instructions, slipping his hands beneath the fabric and slowly sliding it down Dongmyeong’s hips. Dongmyeong shivers from the feeling of Youngjo’s rough hands on his skin, so ready to feel those hands all over his body. As fun as it is to tease Youngjo and draw it out, it’s torture on Dongmyeong as well, evidenced by how hard he is when his cock springs free from his panties. 

Youngjo’s eyes immediately flick downwards, smirking when he notices how affected Dongmyeong is, and Dongmyeong wants to smack that smirk off his face. So he does, cupping one side of Youngjo’s face in his hand to soften the blow. 

Youngjo winces, bringing his hand up to cover the place of impact automatically. Dongmyeong didn’t hit hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to startle him and remind him who’s in control. And Youngjo knows the safe word for if Dongmyeong ever takes it too far. 

“You better behave,” Dongmyeong warns. “You see how fucking ready I am. Don’t fucking make me stop.” 

Because he will, if Youngjo does something to show he’s undeserving. Dongmyeong has toys. They’re not as satisfying as a real dick, but they’ll do. 

“Don’t stop,” Youngjo begs, and Dongmyeong would get onto him for telling him what to do if he wasn’t so goddamn needy himself. 

“Fine,” he huffs, shimmying the rest of the way out of his thong and tossing it onto the floor. He moves so he’s straddling Youngjo properly, lowering himself until he’s just above Youngjo’s cock, thighs quivering in anticipation. “You can touch me again,” he says softly, and Youngjo’s hands immediately go to his hips as Dongmyeong sinks down onto him. 

God, it’s been a while. They’ve both been so busy playing concerts and preparing their new albums that even though Youngjo lives just down the hall, they barely get to see each other. It’s no wonder Youngjo said he had been dreaming about this, because if he’s honest, Dongmyeong has been too. He’s no stranger to sex, he’s had it with all of his bandmates at one point and several of the members of Youngjo’s band. But it’s different with Youngjo. No one else indulges his need for control quite the same way, none of them worship his body the way Youngjo does when he’s allowed. He wonders if it’s the same for Youngjo, if that’s why he’s so desperate to do this when they get the chance. 

“Missed you,” Dongmyeong gasps, going still when Youngjo’s fully seated inside of him. He’s thicker than Dongmyeong’s fingers, and longer, filling him out more, and it’s going to take a moment to adjust. 

Youngjo trails his fingers up Dongmyeong’s spine while they wait, stopping when he reaches the clasp of the bra. He touches the lace of the band before unfastening it, and Dongmyeong gasps, too surprised to stop it from happening. Once it’s off, Youngjo tosses it onto the floor, leaving Dongmyeong in just his garter belt, stockings, and heels. 

“You’re prettier like this,” Youngjo murmurs. 

Dongmyeong blushes, hoping his tan is enough to hide it. “Like what?” 

“Naked.” It’s at this moment Dongmyeong realizes he’s adjusted, and he rolls his hips, drawing a moan out of Youngjo before he continues. “You’re pretty when you’re dressed up too, but... fuck, Dongmyeong, you don’t have to wear anything at all to be beautiful.” 

“Thought you were calling me Mommy?” Dongmyeong quips, ignoring Youngjo’s compliments. This is getting too close to something vulnerable, and vulnerability is scary. 

“If that’s what you want.” 

What Dongmyeong wants is a good fuck. He lifts his hips up before sliding back down, letting out a moan that almost drowns out Youngjo’s gasp of “Mommy.” 

This is good. He can work with this. But then Youngjo brings his hands up to his face, pulling Dongmyeong down to his level to kiss him, and Dongmyeong’s heart explodes. Youngjo’s lips are fire against his, burning him up from the inside out, and Dongmyeong wants to be consumed. 

“Stop,” Dongmyeong mumbles between kisses, before Youngjo’s lips are on his again. Dongmyeong tugs at his hair, and Youngjo gasps, but he doesn’t stop. “Stop fucking kissing me.” 

When Youngjo does, he looks into Dongmyeong’s eyes. “You don’t want me to.” 

“You don’t get to tell me what I want,” Dongmyeong snaps, pulling back from Youngjo. “Just lie there and let me ride you.” 

And Youngjo does, because he always does what Dongmyeong tells him in the end. He always gives into him. And that’s the problem. 

“I hate you,” Dongmyeong says. He doesn’t mean it. He works his hips faster, trying to angle them so that Youngjo’s cock reaches his prostate and getting frustrated when he doesn’t succeed. 

“Let me,” Youngjo starts, reaching for him, and Dongmyeong smacks his hands away. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

He doesn’t know where this anger is coming from. He doesn’t like it. But he can’t seem to stop it. This isn’t the icy demeanor he puts on when he doms, these are flames engulfing them both. 

Youngjo looks at him, brows knitted together questioningly. “Myeong?” 

Dongmyeong stops, taking a deep breath, collecting himself. “I’m fine. Just... this is just sex, you know that, right?” 

“I know,” Youngjo says. The rest of his sentence hangs between them, unspoken. _That’s all this has ever been_. 

“Good.” Dongmyeong grabs the base of Youngjo’s cock, and the added leverage is enough for him to successfully find his prostate, eyes fluttering shut when he does. “There, right there,” he moans, like he’s not the one in total control of the situation, rocking his hips so he brushes that spot over and over. “God, you’re so useless, I have to do all the fucking work myself.” 

Youngjo’s hands find purchase on Dongmyeong’s hips again, holding him steady. Dongmyeong doesn’t stop him this time. “Feels good,” he mumbles. Dongmyeong looks up, his rhythm faltering when their eyes meet, because Youngjo is looking at him with a kind of dark intensity, like Dongmyeong is something to be adored. “Feels so good, Mommy.” 

“Touch me,” Dongmyeong begs, before he can stop himself. Youngjo is touching him, his hands on his hips, but he knows what Dongmyeong means. He brings his hands up, his slightly rough palms sliding deliciously over Dongmyeong’s skin, fingers fitting in the hollows between Dongmyeong’s ribs as he brushes his thumbs over both nipples. 

Dongmyeong gasps, and Youngjo does it again. He can feel himself leaking between his legs, and he bites his lip hard to keep from whimpering. He doesn’t like being the needy one. 

Youngjo wraps a hand around him, completely covering his cock with his big hand, and Dongmyeong trembles with need. He brings a hand up, biting down on his own knuckles to keep quiet. Youngjo tugs at his arm with his free hand. “Wanna hear you. Please?” 

Fuck, he can’t say no to that. His knuckles are slick with spit when he pulls them away. “Y-Youngjo,” he moans, digging his nails into Youngjo’s thighs, hoping they break skin and bruise him. “Fuck, I... fuck.” He’s too far gone to be coherent, the drag of Youngjo’s cock inside of him coupled with the way Youngjo’s fisting his cock pulling him too close to the edge. 

“Want you to feel good,” Youngjo breathes out. Dongmyeong hates that he still sounds so fucking composed. He’s the one riding his cock, he’s supposed to be making Youngjo fall apart. “That’s all I want, want to be good and make Mommy feel good.” 

Dongmyeong twitches in Youngjo’s hold. His thighs are aching from the strain of fucking himself up and down on Youngjo’s cock for so long. “Fuck,” he whines, the word broken and desperate on his tongue. Youngjo cups his face in one hand, and Dongmyeong knows what’s happening before it does. He could stop him, but he doesn’t. 

Youngjo kisses him, and Dongmyeong cums into Youngjo’s hand, his cry swallowed up by the way Youngjo parts his lips with his tongue and slips it inside. He clenches, and feels Youngjo pulsing inside him, cumming along with him. 

His eyes are wet when they pull apart, and he wipes them quickly, trying to destroy the evidence before Youngjo sees. Dongmyeong makes boys cry. He doesn’t fucking cry during sex. 

When Dongmyeong dares to look back at him, Youngjo’s eyes are shut, chest rising and falling slowly as he comes down. Dongmyeong raises himself up again, wincing at the feeling of Youngjo’s softening cock slipping out of him. His feet hurt. He kicks the heels off, and that helps some. 

An alarm goes off on his phone, the marimba tone ringing throughout the room. Their twenty-minute warning. The other boys will be back soon. 

“Get up,” Dongmyeong calls. 

Youngjo groans. “Don’t wanna.” 

“Fine.” Dongmyeong swings his leg over the side of the bed, so he can get to his feet. He feels too naked suddenly. “Stay here for all I care. I’m sure Giwook will love to come home and find you naked in our bedroom.” 

Youngjo cracks an eye open to glare at Dongmyeong. Dongmyeong smiles sweetly back at him, unphased. “You’re lucky you’re such a good fuck, Myeong.” 

“I know I am,” Dongmyeong chirps, but it sounds hollow. His heart isn’t in it. “Really though, we’ve got like twenty minutes if we’re lucky. You need to shower and get some clothes on and get back to your place.” 

Youngjo sighs, but he knows Dongmyeong’s right. They’ve done this enough times to know by now. “Fine. Shower with me?” 

Dongmyeong tosses one of Giwook’s pillows at him, narrowly missing Youngjo’s head. “You know damn well we don’t have time for that.” 

“I know.” His next words hang in the silence of the room, heavy and unsaid. _I wish we did_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated. <3


End file.
